


The Beginnings

by Mery_Strider_Egbert



Series: if you never shoot, you'll never know [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: FAHC, Fake AH Crew, GTA, GTA!AU, M/M, implied abusive family, pre fake ah crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:59:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mery_Strider_Egbert/pseuds/Mery_Strider_Egbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Pre-FAHC) It’s nights like these that make the six’s lives worth living. The nights where they get together and they can try to be happy, surrounded by the warm fire and the jokes and the friendship they desperately cling to in their shitty lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this all tonight, so please tell me if you see any errors. I don’t even know if I like this, but I’ll put it out there. It’s really just a whole, if the FAHC were friends before they were the FAHC and contemplation and stuff like that. I don’t know if it fits in the universe but I tried. I hope it’s not confusing haha.

It’s a symphony, the rumble of footsteps over the gravelly ground combined with the shallow breaths and the faraway sirens. The honking cars, the lazy shoutings of police officers who gave up three minutes into the chase, the clank of the spray bottles dumped hastily into a bag. The younger three out of the six graze their fingers along the fence as they run, feeling the swoosh of the train passing on the other side.Their bodies are warm, their faces red. There’s no need to run anymore but they thrive off of the adrenaline. They feel it in their bones, sucking it from the Earth and up into their legs; and in their lungs, as they heave and pant in the cold air.

 

They stop at a familiar overhang, some of them bent over, hands on their knees, where a shed and dirty couches surround a fire pit. The couches reek of blood and trash, covered in dirt and grime, and the shed looks like it’s about to break under a feather. But none of them care.

 

It’s someplace familiar. Someplace with happy memories. Someplace close to home.

 

It’s nearly dark, the sun setting in the distance behind them. Immediately the taller one, with paint covering his face and blonde hair tied back, _Ryan_ , takes out the lighter in his pocket, and the one with a ratty old purple jacket and square glasses, _Ray_ , brings something to burn.

 

“I’m getting too old for this shit.”

 

They all start laughing at the eldest, their fearless (besides snakes and typical horror games) leader with a frown on his face and a slight stench of alcohol. They all fall into place in their particular couches around the burning flames that illuminate their ragged, but youthful faces.

 

“You’re barely 26, Geoff,” says the second oldest, the one with the hawaiian t-shirt and the beginnings of a gruff beard _, Jack_. He sits on the couch with Geoff, leaning his head against the couch arm and still catching his breath.

 

“Mmm, 26 and done too much shit to my body.” Geoff groans and puts his head in his hands. “More like 40 at this rate.” He coughs, cutting himself off.

 

“The lesson here, kids,” he continues and looks at the three lads across from him who look at him with amused but concerned faces, “is don’t do drugs.”

 

“He says as he reeks of alcohol and smoke.” The freckled boy with golden curls, _Michael_ , retaliates.

 

“Hypocritical if you ask me.” Adds the british boy with a big nose and messy hair, _Gavin_ , whose head rests on Michael’s lap as he stares at the dancing flames.

 

“Listen to your elders.” Jack adds with a twinge of sarcasm. They all let out breathy laughs.

 

“But don’t follow in their example,” Ryan adds a little solemnly, and they stumble into a lull of comfortable chatter amongst themselves.

 

The three lads fall into a heated debate about the newest pokemon game and soon enough they’re shouting and laughing uncontrollably at their puns and burns. And Ray’s unbelievable amount of memes. They pass around the beers and cola they snagged on their crime run and Ryan chucks them all donuts he grabbed on the store counter before they left running.

 

The older three watch over them like the parents they feel they are while talking about whatever is on their minds. The older two prying at Ryan to get out his crazy exploits since the last time they met, but when he doesn’t budge they don’t push. The unspoken rule among the six that keep them functioning.

 

Or keep them on a fragile line between breaking and healing, but none of them want to cross either path.

 

Gavin ends up being pushed from the couch and Michael just smirks at him with his hands up. The wrestling ensues, and they’re all placing bets on who was going to win this time. All the while still keeping an eye out for that inevitable moment where they break and “just fuck already” from each of their words at one point or another.

 

It doesn’t happen that night, and nobody brings up the fact that Michael stopped in the middle of the wrestle, straddling Gavin as his hands brush a bruise on his face that he didn’t cause. And they pretend not to see when Gavin shakes his head and then reaches up to touch Michael’s split lip he hadn’t had when they met the day before, and the black eye they had all noticed but didn’t bring up until now. And Michael shakes his head, too.

 

Unspoken rule. No one has to tell if they don’t want to.  

 

Later on after Ray and Ryan come back from the bridge after a quick smoke and Geoff and Gavin stop graffiting dicks on the shed, they come back and they’re sitting on the couches, some on the floor. The fire’s dwindling, but still enchanting. The orange flames reflect off of their eyes, burning away the night. They tell stories. They make each other laugh. They take dumb selfies and film the stupid shit they do.They smile.

 

They are happy.

 

As happy as they can be in their shitty lives. And they truly are, for these fleeting hours, these weekends running from the police and escaping their lives. They live if only to look forward to these weekends together as some sort of family. A fucked up family with fucked up problems. But family nonetheless.

 

“Do you ever wonder wh-”

 

“Why we’re here?”

 

“Shut up, Michael.”

 

They chuckle at the ongoing joke. Geoff sighs but smiles anyway. At this point of the night they’re all on their backs, watching the polluted sky and the satellites cross the sky.

 

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if were actually normal?” Geoff continues after a beat.

 

“In a city like Los Santos? Fat chance.” Ryan laughs bitterly and they all follow in hums of agreement. “This city corrupts every living soul it touches.” As if on cue a distant scream sounds in the distance. The three older men frown as they look at the three lads. Somewhere in their experienced minds they cling to the naive hope that maybe it’ll be different for them. _Hopefully_ , they won’t end up like Ryan, Geoff, or Jack. They won’t end up with a broken porcelain body struggling to stand and leave this shithole with only cracks or maybe even perfectly whole. But they know how the vines keep growing after it makes it’s root, they know that all too well.

 

And Los Santos already touched them in some way. In the frequent fights Michael gets into and he can’t seem to stop, the bruises Gavin shows up with, doesn’t speak about, but they all know it has something to do with his father, and in the way Ray is always asking to stay with Ryan or Jack or Geoff, asking for a smoke, and always having a backpack full of clothes on him like he doesn’t have a real home to go to.

 

Geoff wonders sometimes, how in the world they all became friends, and it’s lost in the months and years of memories, but he knows he’s never been happier.

 

“Well,” Geoff starts to ask again, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we could rule this city? Since we know we’re never getting out.” He laughs bitterly.

 

“What? Like those corrupt politicians?” Ray questions. “Well, Narvaez wouldn’t sound so bad on an ad and on a ballot. Who am I kidding? It would be bad...but I could finally get the shiba I wanted with all that cash.”

 

“You and that shiba.” Michael grins.

 

“One day, Michael. It’s going to happen. I will get that dog.”  

 

Before the conversation could get any further Geoff cuts in. “I mean like… a gang. We could rule the city and be the greatest crime lords in existence. Better than our lives now.” _We could make them fear us. So no one could ever hurt us again._ He looks at the bruises on Michael and Gavin’s faces, the skinny wrists and pale face of Ray, the painted mask on Ryan’s face, and the Jack’s tired, lifeless eyes.

 

“Us?” Gavin couldn’t help but scoff at the idea. “How could _we_? We’re just six wankers with bloody messed up lives and happen to all love video games. What would we even call ourselves?”

 

Another beat of silence.

 

“The Achievement Hunter Crew?” Jack starts thumbing his beard with thought. They all love achievements, that’s one thing he knows.

 

“Pfft. What about the _Fake_ Achievement Hunter Crew?” Ryan replies, enlightening the ridiculous thought.

 

“The Fake AH Crew.” Geoff says with a pleased tone. “I like the sound of that.”

 

Their laughs ring into the night as the fire crackles between all of them.

 

It’s later, when dawn barely creeps into the horizon, when everyone’s asleep except for Geoff, that he mumbles to himself.

 

“Fake AH Crew. We could do it. I bet we could.”

 

And in that sleep he dreams of empires and bank heists, crimes and money. The adrenaline pumping through their veins that feed them energy. The helicopters hovering overhead as they pull out RPGs. The drinks afterwards and the smiles on each of their faces. He dreams of his friends, his _family_ being happy. Not fake, not forced, not fleeting. In their broken porcelain shells, they would be happy.


End file.
